User blog:Squibstress/Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart - Chapter 9
Title: Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart Author: Squibstress Rating: MA Genre: Drama Warning/s: Explicit sexual situations; non-con; character death Published: 05/06/2017 Disclaimer: All characters, settings and other elements from the Harry Potter franchise belong to J. K. Rowling. Chapter Nine And Shall I Couple Hell “Quaffle,” he repeated. “Very well.” He didn’t move. “Severus,” she said quietly, “I should like to get this over with.” “Of course. I’m sorry,” he said, sounding pained. He forced himself to ask, “Do you need to make any preparations?” “No,” she said. He swallowed hard, then said, “Would you like me to do as I did the other night in the Great Hall?” She was confused for a moment, and then realised what he meant. “No, thank you. I’ve taken care of it.” She had decided against using the Anestheto Charm because of the chance it could deprive her of the use of her legs, but she had already placed the Lubricus Charm she knew would make things easier. “Then if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll ready myself,” he said. She nodded, and he disappeared through the doorway to his private quarters, which was concealed by a large, heavy bookcase to the right of the wall behind the desk. She hoped he was not going to be foolish enough to use another Engorgio Charm. In fact, Severus had brewed a Potency Potion the previous evening; it was far safer. He went into his bedroom, retrieved a phial of the pale gold liquid, and drank it. After a few moments, he felt it starting to take effect. When he returned to the study, she was looking up at the empty portrait of Dumbledore. “That was very clever of you,” she said pointing to it, referring to the Disillusionment Charms he had used on the Heads’ portraits. “Thank you. I figured we didn’t need an audience.” She gave a short, appreciative laugh. “No, emphatically not. What if Voldemort notices they’re missing?” she added apprehensively. “I doubt he will, but if he does, I will make the excuse that I threatened them with burning if they interrupted us.” “I assume I should leave the room in order to make it seem I am responding to a summons?” she asked. “Yes. Just knock when you are ready, and we’ll begin,” he answered, sounding more certain than he felt. She nodded and went out through the study door. Snape stood in front of the desk, calming his mind. It was a few moments before he heard the brass knocker sound. “Enter,” he intoned. “You wished to see me, Headmaster,” Minerva said, head slightly bowed. “Ah, Professor McGonagall. You are most prompt. I did, indeed, wish to see you.” His inflection gave the last four words a sinister tone. He removed his wand from his robes and cast a spell at the door. A deep, rumbling sound told Minerva that it had been barred, preventing her from exiting until the Headmaster allowed it. “Come here, witch!” Snape said forcefully, unfastening his cloak and tossing it to the side chair next to the desk. “No, please, no …” Minerva whispered. It didn’t require any of her meagre thespian skills to sound small and helpless. Snape crossed the distance between them in three paces. He reached out and tore her outer robe open, pushing it from her shoulders. He held his wand to her neck and said, “Take it off.” The robe dropped to the floor. Her eyes were wide with terror. He had never seen her look like that, and it turned his stomach to know that he was the cause of it. Nevertheless, he grabbed her by one arm and jerked her toward the desk. He pinned her against it, her back to him. “Bend over,” he whispered in her ear. “No. You cannot do this,” she begged. “Listen to me, Professor,” he hissed quietly, his lips right next to her ear. “I am Headmaster here, and you will serve me.” She had a moment of panic, not knowing what to say. Grasping for anything, she said, “You won’t get away with this,” realising the foolish cliché came from the Muggle crime novels she had read as a girl. “I beg to differ. You will service me in any way I choose. You belong to me, and I will use you as I like, or your precious Gryffindors will not escape their school year unscathed, I’m afraid. Now, bend over.” She did so, bracing her arms on the desk. “Good girl,” Snape said, lifting his head away from her ear. “We both know I could compel your compliance with a Binding Charm, but it’s so much more fun this way, don’t you agree?” She didn’t answer, but he could see her back rise and fall as if she were breathing heavily. She felt a hand caress the back of her neck and trace a path down her back and over the curve of her buttocks. She felt his hands on her bare calves. He moved them slowly up under her plain camel skirt, his fingers brushing the insides of her legs, until they came to rest just above the elastic of her knickers. He slid them down, letting them drop around her ankles. “Give them to me,” he said. She stepped out of them, and he picked them up from the floor, putting them in his robe pocket. “From now on, when you enter this room, you will be bare for me like this.” He leant down to grab the hem of her skirt and lifted it, bunching it up around her waist. Another phrase she had read in a Muggle history book came into her mind: Close your eyes and think of England. She had to stifle a hysterical laugh. He pushed a knee between her thighs to part them. She heard a zipper and felt his penis search between her legs for a moment. Then he found his purchase and entered her. Despite the Lubricating Charm, it was painful. She gasped, and he stilled for a moment to allow her to adjust to him. He waited to hear the safe word, and when it didn’t come, he began to thrust into her, knocking her thighs rhythmically against the desk. She knew he was being careful not to be too rough, but he grunted with each thrust as if he were riding her hard. She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw a tiny droplet of moisture glistening on the surface of the desk; another fell and joined it. She moved her arm, wiping them away with the sleeve of her silk blouse, staining the cloth. Looking up at the blurred portrait above the desk, she wondered which of his several paintings Albus’s image was visiting. After another minute—or an hour, or a year; Minerva couldn’t say which—he groaned and released her. She heard him breathing hard, and then more slowly. She heard his zipper. “Thank you, Professor, you may go,” he said as if they had just conducted a curriculum meeting. He didn’t wait for her to straighten up; he simply walked out of the room and into his private quarters. She stood, massaging the place on her upper thighs where they had been pressed to the edge of the desk. She retrieved her torn robe and looked around for her knickers, then realised he must have taken them with him. Just then, the door from his quarters opened and he came back in. He approached her, a stricken on his face. He didn’t speak. Then he did something she didn’t expect: he took her hand and squeezed it. “How are you feeling?” he asked awkwardly. “All right, I think,” she answered, her voice stronger than she had thought it would be. There was a long pause, and then she said, “Severus, I need my underthings.” “Yes, of course,” he said quickly. “How thoughtless of me.” He dropped her hand and retrieved her knickers from his pocket. As she accepted them, he noticed her hands were shaking. He felt as if all the Dementors of Azkaban had descended upon him at once. “Minerva, I’m so very sorry,” he said, turning around to give her a measure of privacy as she put her knickers back on. “Shh, Severus. You don’t need to keep apologising to me,” she said. “I know this is as hard for you as it is for me.” “Yes, but it’s different—” he began. “No, I don’t really think it is,” she interrupted. “Did I hurt you?” he asked with great concern. Her heart constricted painfully as she recalled the same words spoken long ago by another man in another room. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “No,” she said again, her voice stronger, afraid he would mistake the reason for her distress. “I’m glad,” he said quietly. “Severus, I believe I’ll have that drink now,” she said. ← Back to Chapter 8 On to Chapter 10→ Category:Chapters of Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart